A few hours in San Francisco

Palms outside the Oracle

On Tuesday, I decided to take the Caltrain to San Francisco. I'd been there before, in 2012, on a bart train from the other direction (from Richmond). This time, staying in Los Altos, all I needed to do was get on a No. 22 bus from the Los Altos bus stop at the Garden Inn, and stay on it till the terminus again at Palo Alto station (where I could catch the train). I'd taken the same bus the previous day on my way to Stanford University. I found the ticket machine at the station confusing and didn't buy the correct ticket to take me through three zones, paid less than I should have, but the ticket inspector let me off with a caution. I enjoyed the ride, the smart young boy (aged 8 or so) on the other side of the carriage keeping up a non-stop conversation with his dad who was taking him out for the day; the boy commented intelligently on everything he noticed, mostly to do with the trains. Interestingly he had nothing to say about some extraordinary, graffiti-style artwork we passed along one section of the line; it didn't enter his consciousness. The suburbs of San Francisco are non-stop too, not a break in the buildings the whole length of Silicon Valley. One community ("city") that seemed to be worth exploring one day was Burlingame, with its striking Spanish architecture in the area near the station and many trees. Soon thereafter we passed SOUTH SAN FRANCISCO, THE INDUSTRIAL CITY, as it said in big white capital letters stuck on the hillside. It looked like an industrial wasteland to me. I wasn't expecting the wild, bare mountainous area that appeared on our left between there and San Francisco proper, a conservation area presumably. On the right hand side of our tracks was an extensive container port. The train having been held up at one of the stations, we were half an hour late getting into the Caltrain station at San Francisco. From there, reusing the street map I'd found at home, I walked straight to the street by the waterfront, the Embarcadero. The first thing I found there was the baseball stadium, Oracle [ball]Park, with tall palm trees standing beside it.

Park on the Embarcadero, business district behind it

The Embarcadero is a a Tsunami Evacuation Route, by the way, awareness of which made me nervous, perhaps unnecessarily. I enjoyed taking photos of the sculpture, Bay Bridge, buildings at sea level and on Rincon Hill, the parks and boats, and reading the historic plaques; this is a worthwhile walk. One plaque told me about the large number of Chinese people who migrated to America in the 1870s: "

Many white workers held anti-Chinese views because of perceived competition over jobs. In 1877 a mob of unemployed workers set fire to the Pacific Mail docks in an act of aggression towards the Chinese. Not long after, the United States passed the 1882 Chinese Exclusion Act [...] not repealed until 1943.

Another plaque said that the Port of San Francisco was "the strategic center of world trade," with a map to prove it. I found a great place for lunch too, the Delancey Street Restaurant, staffed by people who are "rebuilding their lives" (I was served a grilled cheese sandwich and soup by a very polite and friendly black waiter) with a view of the bridge from its flowery patio. Recommended!

There's a famous piece of art called Cupid's Span near there, a giant bow and arrow stuck in the grass. Further along the seafront is a series of Piers, counting down to Pier 1, the Ferry Building being the most impressive piece of architecture in this district. Streetcars run along the Embarcadero with their tracks in the middle of the cobbled roadway. I made my way back through the business district, Market Street, 1st Street, 2nd Street, etc. to the Caltrain station on 4th Street, the tall buildings of different ages reminding me of Chicago.

The Bay Bridge with a ferry boat

Ferry Building on the Embarcadero

Bike lane on 2nd Street